A boy approached at another time. He was handsome, and Colene liked his look, but had had no personal interaction with him. “I, ah, she shouldn’t have done that,” he said. “I didn’t know. I didn’t ask you before, but now, ah, maybe there isn’t much time. The last-night dance, will you, ah—?”
“Because you’re sorry for me?” Colene asked witheringly.
“Ah, yeah, I guess. I guess I’d be mad too, if—”
“Okay.”
“What?”
“I will go to the dance with you.”
He seemed stunned. “Ah, okay, then.”
They did go. He gave her a small corsage of wildflowers he had made himself. He held her very close as they danced, and suddenly she realized something. She halted on the floor. “Was that the truth?”
He knew what she meant. “Ah, no. I lied. I just didn’t have the nerve to tell you I liked you. Are you mad?”
“Furious,” she said, and pulled his head down and kissed him firmly on the mouth.
There was applause from the other couples and those along the sidelines. A counselor forged her way to them. “Go to your rooms,” she said severely. “You know that’s not permitted.”
“See, I got you in trouble already,” Colene told him as they separated.
“Yeah. Thanks,” he replied, looking stunned again.
Mitzi was there in the room. Colene looked at her, surprised.
“No one asked me,” the girl said. “No one would dance with me.” She was near tears.
She was not suicidal, but she was suffering worse than Colene was now. “Maybe I can fix that,” Colene said.
“No! I don’t deserve anything from you. I’m sorry I—I said what I did. I knew it was wrong the moment I—Colene, I’m sorry!” She buried her face in her handkerchief.
“I know. But I guess you did me a favor.”
The head counselor arrived. “Colene, whatever possessed you to let him kiss you like that?” she demanded. “You know I shall have to report both of you to your families as well as apply demerits for discipline.”
“You kissed him?” the roommate asked, astonished.
The counselor glanced at her, startled. “Why aren’t you at the dance?”
Colene spoke before Mitzi could answer. “We had a quarrel. I got back at her. I got her date to take me instead, at the last minute, so she was frozen out. He didn’t kiss me; I kissed him. Ask anyone; they all saw it, except the chaperon, who only looked when she heard the applause. So I fixed them both good.”
The counselor stared at the roommate. “Is this true?”
“Why do you think she’s been crying?” Colene demanded.
The counselor was at a loss for only a moment. Then she acted in the decisive fashion of her kind. “Colene, I am appalled at you. I will deal with you later.” She turned to Mitzi. “You come with me. You will attend the dance with your date.”
In moments they were gone. Colene lay on her bunk bed, gazing at the ceiling. She was proud of herself. She knew her date would play along. Not only would it get him out of trouble with the counselors, it would make him a celebrity for the night. Two girls had fought to date him!
Next day the buses came and the kids went home. They were from all over the country and had no contact with each other apart from the camp. The counselors were busy keeping things moving, and there wasn’t much chance for any talking. But every time a camper caught Colene’s eye, he or she smiled and made a little gesture of a finger across the throat. It was a temporary camp convention, signifying credit for getting punished for doing something daring or decent. It had special meaning in Colene’s case. They all knew, and all were pleased. Naturally no one told the counselors. Secrets—secrets were the stuff of life.
That was it. When Colene’s mother received the discipline report, she was perplexed. “What did you do?”
“I kissed a boy in public.”
Her father burst out laughing. “About time!”
Colene wondered what he would have said if he had known about the rape. Her world was such a schizoid place, where a gang rape went unnoticed while an innocent kiss got a girl in trouble. For all that, the last week of camp, betrayal and all, had been a high point in her life.
Why did she want to die anyway? Now she felt far more positive. It was because of Darius, she knew: even the hope of him made her want to live, for she had to live to love, and she did love. Even the notion of sex, which had pretty much turned her off, now turned her on. With him it would be beautiful, she knew.
But it was also Seqiro. She had loved horses from afar. Now she loved one from up close. Very close. Right-inside-her-mind close. She could tell him her secrets, and he would not betray them. That made her feel much better about living.
“Seqiro!” she exclaimed. “Are you helping me? I mean, messing with my mind, making me forget the pain or whatever?”
I could do this, but have not, because I see that it was that pain that caused you to embark on the Virtual Mode. Without it you might give up your quest.
“You mean you’re selfish, Seqiro? You want my company?”
That is true. He sent a nonspecific companion thought of agreement that was so complete it had to be believed.
She was thrilled in much the way she had been when she learned that the boy at camp had really wanted to dance with her. It meant he was not just putting up with her. “Don’t worry. I want to get together with Darius, and I want to stay with you. I’m glad you didn’t mess with my mind. That means I really am feeling better. Just going through those memories with you makes me feel better.”
What is your desire of life?
Colene thought for a moment, and then it poured out of her. “I like to consider myself apart from the whole Earth. There is no dignity left. I would like to be able to float away with my books and music and my guitar. It just seems to me that there are few people left with any integrity, and two of them happen to be my favorite writer and my favorite musician. I do too much thinking for my own good. I compose poetry in my head, but it won’t come out right on paper. It’s depressing. I dream too much also. I have so many ambitions, and I am crushed when I realize how very few will ever be achieved. I want to be an author, a musician, a veterinarian, a researcher working with dolphins and other marine life, a friend of those I admire. I want to be someone who would die for her cause. I want to be creative. I want to be a starving artist. I want always to be traveling, never in one place for long. I want to be defending everyone’s rights, especially animals and women. I want to be free, inspiring, compassionate. I want to be everything. I want to live under a night sky with someone I love intensely, and never have to move. To sit and gaze at the heavens with someone. I want never to be tied down or held back as I am now. Above all, I want to be free. I want it to be nighttime forever.”
I share your feeling. But what you have thought is not all. His thought was sympathetic.
She laughed. “No, that’s not all! It’s not even consistent. I want never to have to stay in one place and never to have to move. I want total freedom and total irresponsibility and total dedication. I want everything and nothing, all at the same time. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but this isn’t sense, this is desire. So does it make any sense to you, or would it, if you were a girl?”
I am a stallion, neither human nor female, and I have similar desires. You express them better than I could formulate them.
She felt another surge of the continuing thrill of being with him, of telling him her secret heart and being understood. She was talking, but her mind was carrying harmonics that made her whole feeling come across, so much greater than mere words could ever convey. His mind was sending back background washes and waves of understanding and support, so she knew he meant it. Telepathy: it was like being in a hot tub together, their bodies dissolved away and their minds sharing the essence.